Somewhere, the second full-length from Austin-based ‘regret pop’ band Sun June, is both universal and personal, infinite yet fleeting.
It exists in the memories of lead singer and songwriter Laura Colwell, as she flips through snapshots of time spent with a lover, pinpointing cities and events to create a roadmap of their journey together. Each vignette is imbued with affection, shimmering in soft, pastel hues, though they often carry a sense of melancholy in the stories which unfold; these pensive recollections subside before they weigh too heavy, hope breezing through the record like wisps of cool, fresh air.
Colwell’s reveries are soundtracked by the country-tinged indie pop of the group: bassist Justin Harris and drummer Sarah Schultz are a steady presence throughout, setting the pleasantly languorous pace, while Michael Bain and Stephen Salisbury provide heavenly melodies on guitar. Flourishes of keys are laid down by Colwell herself, interwoven with the other elements to form a richer, fuller atmosphere than their previous work.
Across the album Sun June ask big questions which go unanswered, but fade lovingly into their own encompassing warmth; Colwell’s light, airy vocals invoke a constant sense of quiet anticipation as she sings with bated breath. On “Everything I Had”, she yearns for her past life, while “Karen O” finds her narrating a night spent drunk on heartache — there’s a story everyone can relate to, but her introspective style of storytelling makes each anecdote feel as intimate as can be.
“Somewhere in the deep part of somewhere / You live there, look out for me” goes the final song, “Colors”, upon a blanket of ambient synths and gentle strumming. It’s the perfect closing statement for a subdued record tied to no one setting. No matter where it is, Somewhere is a place of subtle beauty to find solace in.